Some Enchanted Evening
by Slayergirl
Summary: Part 2 of the 'Sometime' Series, sequel to "Some Day Soon", but will make sense as a stand-alone. Eric and Sookie reach an understanding. WARNING: so sweet and fluffy it might rot your fangs. E/S.


**A/N: Part Two of the 'Sometime' series, sequel to 'Some Day Soon', though this will make sense without you having read it first. In case you don't recognise it, the song (and title of this story, also, therefore) is from **_**South Pacific.**_** I will re-iterate my warning: this is so sweet it may rot your fangs. You have been warned.**

* * *

The date with Quinn hadn't gone as well as it might have done – none of that was his fault, he'd been lovely, great company, and was clearly a fantastic guy that, under other circumstances, I might have been really happy with. Having been attacked by Weres just afterwards hadn't helped matters, but the real deal-breaker was Eric.

It wasn't as if Eric had actually done anything deliberate to wreck my date, either; he'd come to talk to me the night before, and though initially we'd argued – he'd been pissed off because I'd refused to go scurrying off to Shreveport on his orders – he'd come to understand a bit better what was going on in my head, and more importantly my heart, and had ended up holding me, comforting me, for a very long time. When he'd left me to return to Shreveport, I was dry-eyed and smiling a little, and he'd promised that he'd try to negotiate with the Queen that I could travel with him and Pam, and that I would be part of his party, rather than hers. I knew he'd do the best he could on that score, and admitted to him that I'd feel better about going to the conference on those terms than as part of the Queen's party.

The issue was, though, that he'd been so very kind when I was upset, when he realised I was grieving over the loss of the person he'd been as an amnesiac, and staying with me, that my feelings towards _him _had started softening considerably. And though I was definitely attracted to Quinn, and liked him a lot, my heart kept tugging me back in Eric's direction. In the end, Quinn had guessed that I had someone else on my mind, and I came clean – as far as I could, without giving away too many details – about the situation with Eric, and he gave me a rueful smile. Under the circumstances, he was pretty understanding about it; he hugged me, told me not to worry about it, and said that, as far as he was concerned, he'd still like to be friends. I was sorry, in some ways, that things weren't going to work out with him, but I knew it was only fair to get my head and heart sorted out as far as Eric was concerned before I could start dating anyone else.

As regards the dating scene, I was back to square one again.

I sighed, and tried to focus on getting things ready to go to New Orleans to go through my late cousin Hadley's apartment. I knew it had to be done, but it's hardly the kind of break you look forward to. I was going to have to check in with the Queen, too, and I really wasn't looking forward to that, either. I stared at the piles of clothes on my bed, and shifted them round morosely, without checking them or packing them. Eventually, I gave up, and went out into the garden.

I lay in the porch swing, gazing at the darkening sky – it was a little while past dusk, and though it was chilly, it was a beautiful spring evening. It was the kind of evening you want to spend outside with someone you love, by a campfire, maybe, gazing up at the stars as they come out. My mind drifted inevitably to Eric – my Eric, amnesiac Eric – and I sighed. As surprisingly kind as Eric had been when he'd discovered the root cause of my distress, I still couldn't quite match him up in my head with the person he'd been when he stayed with me.

A soft crunch on my gravel drive – gravel that Eric had paid for – brought me out of my reverie. I looked up to see the object of my musings approaching; he'd clearly flown over from Shreveport.

"Nice evening for flying?" I greeted him.

He smiled. "Perfect." He held his hand out to me, helping me out of the swing. I wondered what had got into him – he wasn't normally quite so solicitous. Neither did he normally come to see me – the last time was out of the ordinary.

"So, how come you're here?"

There was a slight twitch of the corner of his mouth. "I've been informed that communicating through my 'flunkies' is not an acceptable way of showing I care."

Ah. Yes, I had said that to him, the last time he'd visited. Clearly he'd made a mental note of that. "The personal touch does go a long way," I replied.

He raised his eyebrow slightly, but didn't smirk. It was clearly something of an effort. "Personal touch?"

"Quit while you're ahead," I advised him, ruing my choice of words. You can never be too careful with Eric; English might be about his twenty-fifth language, but he can find innuendo in it with shocking ease – he was probably able to smoulder and flirt in every language he spoke. "Is this business or pleasure?"

"Both," he said. "As far as the business part of the evening goes, simply to tell you that I've spoken to Sophie-Anne. She wasn't happy, but has agreed that you can travel with me and Pam. You'll be part of my party, therefore, and answering to me, on the understanding that she can call on you when she has need of you. Regrettably, I have no right of refusal on that, since she's my Queen, and I have no formal claim on you."

I pulled a face, but shrugged. "I guess that's better than nothing. Thank you."

"Better for me this way, too," he said with a smile. Well, he was at least honest about it. "As to the pleasure…" I half-expected flirtation or innuendo; it never came, "wrap up warmly."

I blinked. "Sorry, what? Why?"

"It's chilly." He nodded to my arms; there were goose-bumps on them.

He refused to say anything else, just told me to grab a sweater and my keys. I wrapped myself in a soft, fluffy sweater I'd bought in the end of season sale at Tara's Togs, and locked up the house behind me. "So what's the plan?" I asked, joining him on the porch.

He held his hand out. "Keys."

"Why?" I asked, mystified, but handing them over.

He zipped them into one of his jacket pockets. "You'll see." Then, before I'd even had a chance to formulate another question, he'd swung me up onto his back, and launched himself into the air. "See? Perfect evening for flying," he laughed over his shoulder.

I held on for dear life, glad that my keys were safely zipped away, as I might easily have dropped them; Eric's driving was terrifying enough, but at least you were on solid ground. Being up in the air was a whole different ballgame. I'd flown with him before, and it had scared me then, too. "Where are we going?"

He chuckled. "Wait and see."

I had no idea exactly where we were heading – I'd closed my eyes against the rush of air, and, I admit, not wanting to see how high we were – so I was disoriented when we finally touched down a while later. We were in a field, and in the middle of it was a sort of folly – something that looked rather like a large bandstand, with open sides, and a roof. On the floor were a picnic rug, a cooler, a picnic basket, and a couple of cushions. "What's all this?"

"A night off," he said, leading me by the hand into the folly. "Take a seat."

I sat cross-legged on one of the cushions, and raised my eyebrows as he produced a bottle of white wine from the cooler, and poured me a glass of it. I watched in bemusement as he unpacked various items from the picnic basket – some fresh bread and French cheeses, fruit, and (surprisingly) a set of portable speakers. He set his iPod into the holder, and the soft strains of music floated up into the night sky. I stared at him for a long moment. "Who are you, and what have you done with the Sheriff of Area Five?" I asked, not entirely jokingly.

He grinned. "I left him at work while I came out to play. Eat up, this is all for you."

Well, I'd figured that one out, given that he didn't eat human food. "What about you?" I asked cautiously.

"Had mine earlier," he replied, settling himself down on the floor – but while I was sitting, he lay with his head on the cushion, looking out across the open ground and up into the sky.

"Where is this place?" I asked, helping myself to the food.

"It's on a piece of land I own. I was thinking of selling it to be developed, but never got round to it. And I thought it would be a good place for a picnic."

"It's beautiful." The field was surrounded on all sides by woodland, and it seemed wonderfully private. "Do you come here often?"

He grinned a little at the unintentionally clichéd question, and I rolled my eyes at him. "No," he said. "I've never had much use for it before."

"You could make use of it, you know."

"Mm?"

"Wedding couples having their photos taken, that kind of thing."

He thought about that for a moment. "Yes, I suppose I could let the land out for that, make some money from it."

We slipped into a comfortable silence while I ate. Once I was done, I packed the remains of the food back into the picnic basket, then hesitated. The vampire lying on the wooden floor of the folly was something of an unknown quantity. I knew his name, and that he wouldn't hurt me, but that was about it. "Eric?"

"Yes?"

"What exactly are we doing here?" I asked, going back to sitting on my cushion.

He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. "As I said, having a night off." He folded his arms under the back of his head; it did some pretty interesting things to his muscle definition which I tried very hard to ignore (and failed). He turned his head towards me, and a breath caught in my throat as my eyes met his. He extended an arm towards me. "Join me," he said softly.

I swallowed my nerves, and scooted over to him, lying by his side, popping the cushion under my head, Eric's arm under my neck. He didn't try to kiss me, or pull me closer, just stroked my shoulder gently, and looked back out of the folly at the night sky.

We didn't talk, didn't move, just lay there side by side, looking out at the stars for what seemed like hours of beautiful, wonderful peace.

Finally, Eric got up, and held his hand out to me. "Dance with me."

I raised my eyebrows, but stood up; he turned the volume up on the speakers as I tidied the rug and cushions out of the way, to one side. I smiled a little as I heard the first strains of a well-known song. I half-listened to them as I danced with him, out there in the middle of nowhere, with only the crickets and the stars for company.

_Some enchanted evening__  
__You may see a stranger,__  
__you may see a stranger__  
__Across a crowded room__  
__And somehow you know,__  
__You know even then__  
__That somewhere you'll see her__  
__Again and again.__  
_  
_Some enchanted evening__  
__Someone may be laughing,__  
__You may hear her laughing__  
__Across a crowded room__  
__And night after night,__  
__As strange as it seems__  
__The sound of her laughter__  
__Will sing in your dreams._

_Who can explain it?_  
_Who can tell you why?_  
_Fools give you reasons,_  
_Wise men never try._

_Some enchanted evening_  
_When you find your true love,_  
_When you feel her call you_  
_Across a crowded room,_  
_Then fly to her side,_  
_And make her your own_  
_Or all through your life you_  
_May dream all alone._

_Once you have found her,_  
_Never let her go._  
_Once you have found her,_  
_Never let her go!_

Well, who said romance was dead? I was puzzled as to Eric's reasons, but he wasn't the kind of person to do anything by halves; if he'd decided to do something romantic, he'd go the whole hog and make sure it was as romantic as you could get. Clearly, Eric had decided it was a night for romance. I wasn't about to complain.

When the song ended, he didn't let me go, but looked down at me, our bodies still swaying to the next song. "We discovered what Hallow's curse was," he said quietly.

Everything seemed to be holding its breath, me included. "Oh?"

He raised the hand that had been holding mine briefly to cup my cheek, my own hand falling to rest lightly against his chest. "To be close to my heart's desire and not know it. A terrible curse…" His thumb was stroking my cheekbone. I drew in a shuddering breath as a wave of longing swept through me.

"Why so terrible?" I asked, trying to get my jellified knees under control.

"Think what might have been," he said softly. "I might have killed you, hurt you… destroyed you utterly…"

"But you didn't," I whispered.

His eyes were full of regret. "Didn't I?" he asked.

I closed my eyes, understanding what he meant. Yes, I was still hurting, still grieving for the loss of someone I'd cared deeply about. "At least that's a retrievable situation," I said finally. "Broken hearts mend eventually. It's not like you drained me, or… or worse. I'm still alive."

"You still got hurt." He eased me closer, both arms wrapping round me as we swayed in time to the music. Seemingly of their own volition, my hands inched their way up towards his shoulders. "When you first told me what had happened, I didn't realise how much you cared." He paused. "I didn't realise how much I cared, either," he admitted. "It was only our… discussion, the other night, that made me realise."

"Oh? It took me screaming at you to clue you in?"

He chuckled. "It took the idea that I might lose you to someone else, actually." He gave me a curious look. "Who was it?"

"You know Quinn?"

He did a double-take. "The tiger?" I nodded; he grinned. "A worthy rival, at least." He narrowed his eyes. "Or are you seeing him again?"

"Jealous?" I asked lightly.

"Of course, I am vampire. What do you expect?" Vampires could write the book on possessiveness. There was a pause. "So?"

I shook my head. "Just friends."

"I suppose I'll let him live, then." I made a tsking sound, and he laughed softly. "Have you forgiven me?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

"For what?"

"For not being him." His eyes were quiet, watchful, as he looked down at me. "For not being the man you fell in love with, the person I was when I stayed with you." He tangled one hand lightly in my hair. "Do I stand a chance of winning your heart away from him?" he murmured.

I raised myself up on my tiptoes, and reached my arms around his neck, brushing my lips briefly to his. "I think you've made a pretty good start," I whispered. "I forgive you."

His only response was to kiss me, long and slow and deep, until I melted against him, into him, the last little drop of my hurt and anger drying up as my senses were flooded with wild, sweet hunger. I clung to him as he laid us back down on the rug, and let myself be lost again in his touch, his embrace, his kiss, which seemed to go on forever and ever. I wrapped myself tightly around him, as if I'd never let him go; he held me just as tightly, saying more in that action than all the words in the world could express, and kissed me as if the night would never end.

Some enchanted evening, indeed.

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**A/N: Part 3 of the 'Sometime' Series, 'Somewhere In The Night', is now up.**


End file.
